


a life of hellos and a life of goodbyes

by someitems



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: 5+1 Things, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 13:44:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17489135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someitems/pseuds/someitems
Summary: Five times Javi and Yuzu weren't reunited, and one time they were.





	1. March 1, 2014

**Author's Note:**

> This story was started in honor of Javi returning to TCC for his final training, and it feels fitting to post it today, on his last day before leaving for Europeans. Thanks for everything, Javi. 
> 
> Content note: this fic references events around the 2014 Cup of China accident, although no graphic details are included.
> 
> Title taken from "5748 Km" by Lisa LeBlanc.

The Olympics chew Javi up and spit him out. When it’s all said and done, he finds himself at the Cricket Club wondering where he goes from here. He had bronze in his grasp and let it slip through his fingers, and the fact that so many other men met with similar disaster isn’t cheering him up. He’d been idly daydreaming about going back home to Spain, escaping cold winters and grueling practices once he achieved that Olympic medal. Now it feels like he’s down at the bottom again, wondering how he can possibly climb back up. He needs energy. He needs motivation.

He’s got Brian, of course, doing his best to encourage him, helping him make plans for Worlds. He’s got his family, just a phone call away, who still believe he hung the moon. ( _”Who would have ever thought a Spaniard could get fourth at the Winter Olympics? You’re amazing, mijo, don’t let anyone tell you differently.”_ ) 

But what he keeps thinking about is Yuzu. Yuzu, who looked like the world was ending at his press conference for winning gold. Yuzu, who spent gala practice drilling quad sals instead of goofing off. Yuzu, who pulled him into a shadowy corner of the locker room when no one else was around. 

“Don’t be sad,” he’d said, holding Javi’s gaze, and Yuzu’s eyes were so intense and fervent that Javi honestly thought they might melt his bitter heart through sheer force of will. Then Yuzu rose on his tiptoes and kissed Javi, one soft tentative peck. Yuzu tried to back away after that, mistaking Javi’s stunned expression for displeasure, but Javi reeled him in with an arm around his waist and kissed him a little more thoroughly. 

They scrambled apart when someone made a noise down the hall, but for five whole minutes, Javi forgot to be heartbroken about the medal and the media shit and everything else that was wrong about the Olympics. Yuzu _liked_ him, apparently. It wasn’t a medal, but it felt like a victory. 

Yuzu isn’t here yet—maybe his off-ice training went long. But when he gets here, Javi is going to hug him, and then he’s going to ask him on a date, as discreetly as he can. They’ll go to a café, and talk, and figure out what this is. Javi will find some way to kiss Yuzu without anyone seeing. And maybe they can keep doing that, day after day and month after month. Maybe they can be together, for real. And maybe, just maybe, it’ll help them get through it all, all the hard horrible lonely stuff it takes to achieve their dreams. 

It’s stupid to pin your hopes on something that hasn’t really happened yet. But Javi doesn’t know any other way to live. If he can’t hope in something, he might as well just give up completely. And right now, this is what he hopes for: Yuzu’s lips on his. Yuzu’s voice saying something funny or weird or sweet. Yuzu by his side. He feels like he could get there, if he tries. Whenever Yuzu gets back.

_where r u?_

_japan. Have to do more interview_

_come back soon, I need to talk to you_

_???_

_about good things. like how I want to kiss you again_

_(〃▽〃) soon_


	2. November 10, 2014

Ever since Javi saw the terse text from Brian and looked up the news with trembling fingers, he’s been thinking about how he’ll welcome Yuzu back from Cup of China. Gently, warmly, taking care not to jar his aching body or his distressed mind. Maybe he’ll ask if he can come over, make Yuzu a cup of tea and let his mom rest a bit. Stroke his hair, look in his eyes and tell him that he’s brave but reckless and please, _please_ , never do anything like that again. He’ll save the other parts for after Yuzu’s a little better: the realization that his feelings for Yuzu are much deeper than he thought, the burning need at the center of his chest to protect Yuzu, the way he wants to be a more serious boyfriend. He doesn’t need to spring that all on Yuzu when he’s still hurting. 

They’ve been dating since just after Sochi. They’re regulars at the Starbucks just down the street from the club, tucking themselves into a corner table and talking about nothing and everything. They greet each other at the rink with hugs that last even longer than they did before. Yuzu’s spent the night at Javi’s apartment a few times. It’s sweet and warm, but casual. They don’t have time for much else. Besides all the hours they spend on skating, Yuzu’s got his schoolwork and his mom, and Javi’s got friends he doesn’t want to abandon. If a few stolen moments here and there in the week are all they can get, it doesn’t make sense to make it more. 

But seeing those photos of Yuzu lying on the ice is like cold water over Javi’s head. It brings a truth home to him: A life without Yuzu in it would be infinitely, incalculably worse. It’s not just that Yuzu is fun to spend time with, or encouraging and motivating on tough training days, or beautiful in bed. Yuzu is at the center of Javi, now. And Javi’s not sure that Yuzu knows he feels this way. It felt like it was the right choice at the beginning to take things lightly, keep this from touching them too deeply. But it’s not the right choice anymore.

Javi feels like he’s had a narrow escape. He’s going to be better from now on, starting the second Yuzu gets back. He’s got plans. He pictures Yuzu sitting crosslegged on his living room floor, schoolwork spread around him, while Javi makes them both dinner. Sunday lunch with Yuzu’s mom, helping her practice her English. Doing off-ice workouts side by side, grinning over at Yuzu as sweat drips down his face. Just thinking about it makes his heart squeeze in anticipation and longing. 

But when he gets to the club, it’s just Brian there, doing slow figure eights across the ice. Brian comes over to say hello. He must see the concern in Javi’s face, because he says, “Yuzu’s staying in Japan to heal up some more.”

“Oh.” Javi tries not to look too disappointed. “Do you—know when he’ll be back?” He can’t stop his voice from rising on the question, a high tremulous noise that makes him cringe.

Brian’s eyes are soft. “I’m not sure. He’s gonna be okay, he just needs a little more time.” He pats Javi on the back. “You can just call him, you know. He’ll answer for you.”

Javi thinks about that _for you_ all through the practice. It’s not his best day on the ice, but Brian doesn’t give him a hard time about it. When he’s done, he rushes into the lounge to call Yuzu. The video call takes a long time to load, but when it does, there’s Yuzu’s face, tired and worn but still smiling. Javi feels a wave of fondness, and he has to stop himself from reaching out to stroke the screen.

“Hi,” Yuzu says. “I just wake up. You in Cricket?”

“Yeah,” Javi says. “Are you…doing better?” 

Yuzu waggles a hand back and forth. “Little bit. Least I am home now.” He sighs. “Sorry if I’m scaring you.”

“Don’t apologize for that,” Javi says. “Just—rest up and get better quickly, okay? I miss you.”

Yuzu smiles wider at that, then winces a little, hand going to his chin. “I miss you too,” he whispers, after a moment.

Javi feels warm inside. “Hey, Yuzu?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you tell Brian we’re dating? I asked him about you and he told me to call you.”

Yuzu wrinkles his nose. “I tell him after I hit my head. I don’t remember, but he say I keep talking about you, keep asking him to tell you I was okay. He tell me he already thinking this, but now he knows for sure.”

Javi laughs. “Guess we can’t hide anything from him.”

“No.” Yuzu laughs too, and even though it’s brief it’s a beautiful sound. “He know too much.”

“At least he approves, right?” Javi hasn’t considered what Brian would think about two of his students dating, but he’s a little nervous now. He might think it’s a distraction.

Yuzu nods. “Yes, he tell me…he tell me it’s good we having each other. He’s not so much worry about us this way.”

Javi feels warm inside. “I’m glad.”

Yuzu yawns lightly, then grimaces. His hand goes back to his chin. Javi’s heart aches.

“You should probably rest some more,” Javi says.

“Yeah,” Yuzu says, reluctantly. “Sick of resting.”

“You need it, though,” Javi tells him. 

“Yeah.” Yuzu sighs. “Thank you. I be back soon, I promise.”

“Take care of yourself,” Javi says. “I’ll see you soon.”


	3. May 19, 2016

_Two-time world champion._ Two months later and it’s still unbelievable. Javi sometimes looks in the mirror while he’s brushing his teeth and thinks _hey. I’m two-time world champion._ Winning it once was incredible enough. Winning it twice is even better. It feels like every struggle was worth it, every winding path he’s climbed in hopes of glory. He made it to the top after all—not once, but _twice._ And it feels just as wonderful as he expected. 

But there’s a cloud over his joy. In order for Javi to win gold, Yuzu had to lose it. And he isn’t handling it well this time. 

Javi’s victory in 2015 was a surprise to everyone, Yuzu included, and that made it a little easier, somehow. With everything that season had thrown at him, Yuzu hadn’t been in any kind of shape to regain his title. He was sad to lose, of course, but he was so happy for Javi too. Javi’s heart had melted when he’d come into the green room and seen Yuzu’s soft happy-sad face. He held Yuzu in his arms while Yuzu pretended not to cry and whispered soothingly until the faint quivering subsided. That night, Yuzu was still subdued, but he’d burrowed close to Javi in bed, and when Javi asked what he was doing, murmured “Reward, for my history man.” It wasn’t perfect, but it had felt like they were in it together. 

But this year was nothing like that. After he came crashing to earth in the free, Yuzu was eerily blank, like sadness had wiped him clean. He sat backstage with his mouth pinched in a line, staring straight ahead. Then Javi skated clean, the stars aligning and the magic flowing freely, doing what Yuzu couldn’t. 

It’s not like Yuzu was a jerk about it, or anything. He dropped to his knees once the final scores were announced, bowing deeply to Javi. “Omedetou,” he said, over and over, his voice high and faint. But then he disappeared again, retreating into the fog of his sadness and hurt. 

Javi’s fumbling attempts to break through were mostly ineffective. Yuzu didn’t want sex or a hug or McDonald’s French fries or to go on a long rant about the effectiveness of his quad sal or any of the things he usually wanted. So Javi just—let Yuzu be. He celebrated his win with Brian and his family, who were happy enough to almost make him forget he wasn't celebrating with his boyfriend too. Then he went to bed in his hotel room, alone. 

He saw Yuzu at gala practice, of course, but they didn’t talk as much as they usually did. They haven’t talked as much since then. Javi doesn’t know what to think, or what to do. He can’t do without Yuzu, and he doesn’t think Yuzu wants to break up or anything. But they’ve drifted apart, and the distance feels like a chasm. 

Yuzu took time off to heal an injury after Worlds, but as far as Javi knows, they’re still doing all the same ice shows. A month of forced togetherness. Javi was looking forward to it all year, after the good times they had last offseason. But now he’s looking forward to it for a different reason. The first night in Chiba, he’s going to stage an intervention. Knock on Yuzu’s hotel room door, demand an explanation, hash this all out once and for all. Then they can move forward, together or apart.

But then, just a week before the first show, Javi opens Twitter and sees it everywhere: _Yuzuru Hanyu withdraws from all Fantasy on Ice shows, citing injury recovery._

Javi is furious. He calls Yuzu, barely stopping to check if it’s a good time for him or not. 

Yuzu answers with video, his brow furrowed. “What?” he asks.

“Why don’t you talk to me anymore?” Javi demands.

Yuzu blinks. “I still talk to you.”

“You didn’t tell me you were still hurt enough to withdraw from the ice shows! That’s a pretty important fucking thing. I had to find out from _Twitter_!”

“When I supposed to tell you?” Yuzu counters. “You not talking to me either.”

“I didn’t think you wanted me to talk to you,” Javi says. “Texting me back like five days later.”

“I’m always do that. I’m busy.” Yuzu’s tone is blunt, his face a blank wall with no cracks.

“You didn’t used to do it to me.” Javi sighs, deep and heavy. “Look, if you don’t want to date me anymore, just say so. I don’t have time for this.”

That must startle Yuzu, because the image on Javi’s screen gets shaky for a second, before clearing up. “Javi—I—why you think?” 

“You haven’t exactly shown a lot of interest in me over the past two months.” Javi’s trying to be patient, but he wants to throw the phone across the room. “What was I supposed to think?”

Yuzu makes a faint noise, something between a squeak and a hum. He doesn’t say anything, but his mouth is slightly open, like he’s thinking about it.

“I thought you were okay with us being rivals and dating,” Javi says. “But it seems like I was wrong about that, too. I don’t mind—giving you space, if you need, or whatever, but if you don’t want to be with me anymore, I have to try and get over you before we have to train together. So, just.” His throat is tight, his mouth dry. “Tell me.”

Yuzu swallows so hard Javi can hear it over the phone, his eyes going wide. “No, no, I don’t want to say that. I don’t—I don’t want to say that.” 

“What do you want to say?” 

“I want to be with be Javi, still. Always. But, I wish—was different me.” 

“What does that mean?” Javi’s shoulders relax just a little, knowing that Yuzu isn’t trying to break up with him. “Why do you want to be different?”

“Boston, everything was—so bad. The worst. I do everything the most wrong I have ever done. I can’t win, and I can’t be happy for silver, and I let everyone down. So, I’m thinking I have to be different me. So it never happening again.” Yuzu pauses for breath, exhaling with a sigh. “But I don’t know how to say. And I think maybe…maybe you are mad, that I’m not happy. So I leave you alone.”

“Yuzu.” Javi should have known it would be something like this. “I don’t want a different you. I want—the same you. That’s the you I like.”

“Really?” Yuzu sounds surprised. 

“Yes, of course really, dumbass,” Javi says. “Why do you think I wanted to date you in the first place?”

Yuzu is suspiciously silent, like he’s trying and failing to come up with the answer. 

“Honestly, Yuzu. It’s okay that you were sad. You didn’t need to stop talking to me, and you definitely don’t need to be another person or something. We can always improve ourselves, yes, but you’re already pretty great to me.”

“I was too sad for silver,” Yuzu says. “I ruined—“

“You didn’t ruin anything. I was still happy to be champion. I wished you could have been happy with me, but, I understand. It’s hard.”

“I was happy for you,” Yuzu insists. “I was sad for myself. I don’t hate you win, I hate I lose. I’m so happy you win. I wish it don’t happen against me—“ 

Javi laughs. “We need separate world championships, eh?” 

Yuzu wrinkles his nose. “—but I always glad you win. I just can’t stop hope I win too. I’m sorry, Javi.”

“I forgive you,” Javi says, as gently as he can.

“I try harder,” Yuzu says frantically, like he didn’t hear Javi. “I promise, I try harder, always. For you.”

Javi looks at the face on his screen, the wide uncertain eyes and trembling lips, and suddenly he knows what he has to say. The thing that he hasn’t been able to say yet, even after two years, because it seems so huge and irrevocable. He always worried Yuzu wouldn’t want anything like that, that it’d be better to leave the big stuff unspoken rather than go too far. But now he knows for certain that’s not true.

Javi takes a deep breath, lets it out. “I love you,” he says to Yuzu.

Yuzu squeaks, then puts a hand over his face in embarrassment. 

“You don’t have to say it back,” Javi says, and finds he means it. “I know you do. You probably knew I did, too. But I felt like maybe—maybe you needed to hear it.”

“Hang on,” Yuzu says. Javi waits, amused, while Yuzu breathes in and out in rhythm. His eyes get the same fierce glint they do just before a competition. After three minutes that feel like three hours, Yuzu raises his head and looks straight at his phone camera. “I love you too,” he murmurs. As soon as he says it, the corners of his mouth curl up in delight, in that catlike expression that makes Javi’s knees weak.

“Baby,” Javi coos. “Oh, I love you so much.”

“Wish I hug you right now,” Yuzu coos back.

“Me too,” Javi says. “I’m not back in Cricket until August, I think. That’s too long, I’m gonna die.” He groans, not exclusively for dramatic effect.

“It’s so long,” Yuzu says. “But don’t worry.” His smile gets bigger. “I talk every day. Until we are back together. I promise.”


	4. April 1, 2017

Javi slumps in the kiss and cry, staring at the screen. He broke 300 points in the free skate, but today, it’s still not enough. Fourth place. Off the podium. The lack of a medal stings, but what’s almost worse is that he’s missed his chance to stand next to Yuzu on the Worlds podium.

They’ve been talking about it all season. It started as a way to cheer Yuzu up while he was still recovering from his injury. “Don’t worry,” Javi told him. “Next year at Worlds, we’ll both be on the podium together. I can see it.”

“Yeah?” Yuzu had been moping, sprawled across Javi’s bed, but he sat up. “You think?”

“Definitely,” Javi said. “Cross my heart.”

Yuzu grinned. “Podium…hmm. Podium reunion.”

“Sure, let’s go with that,” Javi said, laughing. 

From then on, it was a little joke between them, or a mantra. “Podium reunion,” Javi would say as he pulled Yuzu off the ice after a fall on a quad loop, and Yuzu would get up and try again. Yuzu texted _podium reunion_ to Javi as congratulations after Javi’s win at Rostelecom. They talked about it so much that they really started to believe in it. It seemed as certain as the ice under their feet, as inevitable as the sun rising. Even when Javi placed fourth at the Grand Prix Final, or when Yuzu had to withdraw from Nationals with the flu, they still believed. 

They pretended to argue, sometimes, about who would be on the top of the podium, and who would get silver. But deep in their hearts, they never doubted it would be the way it had been for the past three years: both of them on the podium, and one of them at the top. 

Two days ago, after the press conference for the short program, Javi had gone to Yuzu’s room to see how he was doing. He’d found him staring at his laptop, watching himself botch the combination over and over again. Javi closed the computer, ignoring Yuzu’s halfhearted squeaks of protest, and took both Yuzu’s hands in his.

“You’re going to do really well tomorrow,” Javi told him, gazing into his eyes. “I know it.”

“Maybe fifth is too far,” Yuzu said, faintly. “I don’t want to mess up podium reunion.”

“You won’t,” Javi told him confidently. “I know you. You’ll skate better than ever in the free.” He switched to a teasing tone, dropping his voice a little. “You won’t let me just _take_ that gold, will you?” 

“No,” Yuzu said indignantly. “I taking gold.”

“We’ll see about that,” Javi said, laughing a little when Yuzu took a swipe at him with his hand. “Okay, I’ll let you get back to your study. I’ll see you at practice tomorrow.”

And Javi was right—Yuzu was capable of rising again, coming back at full strength and taking his spot on the podium through sheer excellence. But Javi faltered in the free, making the same kinds of mistakes he’d made so many times before. He was right not to be worried about Yuzu. But he should have been more worried about himself. 

Brian pats Javi on the shoulder. “Come on. It’s done.” Javi stands up slowly and reluctantly, walking backstage. One of the flower sweepers pushes a bundle of presents into his arms and Javi grabs them automatically. The flowers and things are nice, but they’re not really cheering him up the way they often do.

In the shadowy darkness between the rinkside and the green room, a figure emerges and thrusts its arms around Javi’s neck, clinging on fondly. It’s Yuzu. Javi strokes Yuzu’s side with his free hand, nuzzling his nose into Yuzu’s hair. He wishes he could stay here forever, with Yuzu tucked against him. Forgetting about medals and placements and promises. But Yuzu’s on his way to an interview, and Javi has to go explain to the Spanish press why he fucked up so badly. They have to pull apart, eventually.

The journalists are all lined up in the mixed zone, ready to pounce. Javi takes a deep breath and explains things as patiently as he can. No, he’s not injured. Yes, he slept well. No, it was probably just a case of the pressure getting to him. Yes, he still plans to compete next season. (Was his performance really _that_ bad?)

Suddenly, all the journalists’ heads turn. Javi turns too, and sees Yuzu striding determinedly towards him. He can’t stop himself from smiling. Yuzu’s eyes are shining, and his cheeks and the tip of his nose are pink. How could Javi ever begrudge him a win, when victory makes him even more beautiful?

“Hi,” Javi says, as Yuzu gets closer. He’s about to ask Yuzu what he’s doing here—he usually avoids the press outside of his designated times—when he feels something slip over his neck. He looks down and sees the glint of gold. It’s Yuzu’s medal.

“For you,” Yuzu says, and then hugs him tightly. Javi hugs back with all his might. 

“Sorry I messed up the podium reunion,” Javi murmurs.

Javi can feel Yuzu shaking his head against his shoulder. “No, it’s okay. We do at Olympics.”

“Are you sure about that?” Javi says. “I’m probably not going to get a medal—“ He’s cut off by a vigorous squeeze. “Oof!”

“Don’t say,” Yuzu insists. “You will get medal. I know it. I share gold with you, you have more power for winning.” He squeezes Javi again, so fiercely Javi worries about the state of his internal organs.

“Oh, is that how it works?” Javi teases. He strokes Yuzu’s back.

“Mhm,” Yuzu says, a low rumble that Javi feels against his chest. 

They stay pressed against each other for as long as they can. Eventually, too soon, Javi hears the click of a shutter and remember that they’re in the middle of a pack of journalists. 

He pulls away reluctantly, taking the medal off and handing it back to Yuzu. “Here you go. It’s yours.”

Yuzu’s smile is blinding, like Javi is the one who awarded him gold in the first place. “Thank you.” 

As Yuzu walks back to rejoin his team, Javi watches him go with a much lighter heart. He might have finished off the podium, but he should have known—wherever he is, whether high or low, Yuzu finds him there.


	5. April 9, 2018

On really tough training days, or after a harsh loss, Javi used to daydream about retirement. The beautiful places in Spain he’d visit, the family and friends he’d be able to see. The shows he’d do, the guests he’d invite to skate with him. The ways he’d convince Spain that figure skating is a sport worth paying attention to. How he’d support new skaters, little girls and boys with the same struggles as he had. 

Javi’s not technically retired yet, but his first couple months post-Pyeongchang have lived up to some of his best retirement dreams. He spent a week on a beach with his family, soaking up the Spanish sunshine. He got an award from the mayor. He held a press conference about the new ice show he’s planning. When friends come by and say, “Let’s grab a drink,” Javi can say “yes.” It’s a beautiful life, for the most part.

But Javi’s retirement dreams never included this: staring at his calendar and email, agonizing over his inability to be in two places at once. One of the venues he wants for Revolution on Ice has finally responded to his request, saying he can come and look at the space…on the fourteenth of April. Right in the middle of the dates for Yuzu’s ice show in Japan. His stomach sinks.

They’d talked about this possibility, back when Yuzu was scheduling the show. He’s on the guest list, but he hasn’t been announced, just in case he can’t go. (He’s on the merch too—when he tried to dissuade Yuzu, Yuzu just smirked and said, “Just want your name on my shirt.”) They have contingency plans and backup ideas and cameras rented for live video feeds. But Javi still feels awful about it. What kind of person can’t show up to honor his boyfriend’s incredible achievements?

Javi and Yuzu haven’t seen each other since March, when Brian held a little ceremony to install the new plaques on the club wall of honor. YUZURU HANYU, GOLD, 2018. JAVIER FERNANDEZ, BRONZE, 2018. They looked beautiful up there, gleaming above the benches. Brian gave a little speech and pretended he wasn’t getting choked up. Then there were snacks and drinks in the lounge with everyone, and more toasts from the other coaches. Yuzu had stood with one of his arms draped around Javi’s waist and the other hand holding a glass of fizzy apple cider, chattering happily with whoever came by. Javi’s heart had been so full, spilling over with warmth like the bubbles in his paper cup of champagne. He stayed at Yuzu’s place, where Yumi didn’t even bother to make him up a separate place to sleep. They traded soft kisses in bed that night, whispering to each other in the silence. When Javi woke up the next morning, his arms were still around Yuzu.

But that was a month ago, and Javi already feels like he’s going to burst from loneliness. If he can’t go to the show, he probably won’t see Yuzu until May. How is he supposed to wait all that time? How is he supposed to do this next year, when he might have to go most of the season without Yuzu? Javi doesn’t want to change any of the choices he made. He just wishes they weren’t this hard, sometimes.

He has to wait four hours before he can call Yuzu, and he spends the time feeling sadder and sadder about having to bail. If this was for anything else but Revolution, he’d skip it and go to Japan—but this is part of his plan to expand to the show to more cities, and the people at the venue have been almost impossible to get ahold of. He needs to seize this opportunity, no matter how much he wants to skate for Yuzu instead. 

Javi feels queasy as he presses “call.” 

“So, I finally heard back from that one place and they want me to tour it—“ he says when Yuzu picks up.

“Good,” Yuzu says firmly, nodding. “Your show can be in more places.”

“I have to tour it during your show,” Javi says miserably. “I have to stay in Spain.”

There’s the smallest of silences, just long enough to make Javi feel like the worst person who ever lived. Then Yuzu says, gently, “It’s okay. That’s more important.”

Relief and guilt well up in Javi simultaneously. “Are you sure?”

“You have to make your show big,” Yuzu says. “Also, I’m not _making_ you skating for me. I’m not mean boyfriend.”

The noise Javi makes almost sounds like a laugh. “Okay. Thank you.”

“I’m thinking, you’re going to get this one,” Yuzu says. “And it’s going to…sell up? No, sell…out. Sell out.” Ever since Javi started planning for Revolution, Yuzu has been making these kinds of pronouncements, like he can force Javi to succeed if he says it enough times. Given that a lot of the stuff Yuzu says about his own career comes true, Javi can see the logic behind it, even if he’s not sure it works that way for anyone else. At the very least, it’s sweet how much Yuzu believes in him.

“I’ll do my best,” Javi says. “Just for you.”

Yuzu nods. “Oh! Also I forget to say, I’m thinking, if everything go the same this month, I’m skating in Fantasy on Ice. All stops. Because I can jump then, and I need to skating more for recovery. So I see you for that.”

“Oh, good,” Javi says. “It wouldn’t be the same without you there.” It still seems like a long way away, and he still feels like an asshole, which is probably why he blurts out, “And we can do Plan 3 too. So I still get to be a little part of your show.”

Yuzu’s smile is pleased and self-satisfied. “Okay, we do that one.”

A week later, when Javi is in a cab to the rink at five-thirty am, he regrets agreeing to Plan 3. He could have just recorded another video, he grumbles to himself. Then he wouldn’t have had to get up at the ass-crack of dawn on his twenty-seventh birthday to skate what will surely be an embarrassingly bad choreo sequence. He’s too old for this, even if he does love Yuzu with all his heart.

And he’s right about the choreo sequence—it’s embarrassingly bad. He can’t even spin straight, groggy from lack of sleep and too many drinks with friends the night before. He’s not reaching any unreachable stars with these moves. 

But then he puts on the earpiece and hears Yuzu’s warm giggle, and remembers why he did this in the first place. Yuzu’s speaking Japanese, for the benefit of his audience, but Javi loves listening to him anyway. Yuzu says something, and then suddenly hundreds of Japanese voices are singing Javi “Happy Birthday.” Yuzu must have told them it was today, Javi realizes. He’s sending his wishes in the most Yuzu fashion possible. It’s the best birthday present Javi’s ever gotten. 

Javi can’t say even a fraction of what he wants to say to Yuzu while he’s live to the ice show audience, but he thanks Yuzu as best he can. 

“Thank you for skating,” Yuzu murmurs shyly in return, and Javi hears what he’s really saying. _I love you._ Then Yuzu coos, “Bye bye,” the way he so often ends their calls.

Javi wishes he could see Yuzu’s face right now, so much it hurts. Before the feed ends, he puts both hands to his mouth and blows a kiss. To an outside observer, it looks like he’s thanking the audience for singing and cheering. But Javi knows Yuzu will understand it’s meant for him.

They cut the video feed and Javi is left standing in an empty ice rink, his exhaustion rushing back all at once. He only just manages not to fall asleep in the cab home. Once he’s back in his apartment, he face-plants into his bed and is out like a light. 

When he wakes up again three hours later, there’s a new message from Yuzu: a screenshot from the broadcast of Yuzu blowing a kiss back. Javi smiles sleepily. Even across all this distance, they reached each other.


	6. January 2, 2019

Pushing open the doors of the Cricket Club feels like stepping into a dream. Javi waves to the attendant at the front desk, breathes in the familiar smell of wood polish and vacuumed carpet. His feet carry him down the hallway, past the trophies and the stuffed armchairs and the exercise rooms. Heading for the rink, like it was any ordinary day.

But this isn’t Javi’s place anymore, even if he’ll be here for the next three weeks. He’s come back to train for Europeans, to see if he can get that seventh gold, but he’s also come back to say goodbye. 

He meant to come back sooner. First, after the ice shows, in August. But there were more local officials to meet and greet, more venues to view, more tour guests to call. And then Yuzu came to Madrid for a few days, on his way back to Toronto to train. Javi lived for weeks on the memory of the two of them on Javi’s new couch, curled into each other; Yuzu at dinner with the family, laughing and nodding and trotting out his few words of Spanish; Yuzu in a park with the wind ruffling his bangs. Yuzu in Javi’s world, not fully at home but willing to try, for Javi. How could returning to Toronto to train compete with that? Besides, the Japanese media would be there to catch a glimpse of Yuzu’s programs, and Javi didn’t want them to see his wobbly spins and too-much-vacation quad sal. So he stayed in Spain.

Then he thought about coming in November, just before the Grand Prix and _Revolution_. It would have worked out nicely—about a week and a half of extra prep time, to get him used to hard training again, while Yuzu and Brian and Tracy were still there and not spread out across the globe. The plane ticket wasn’t a problem—the federation was still willing to help him out—and he didn’t even have any important business scheduled. But when it came down to it, Javi just…didn’t. 

It was inertia, mostly. Javi’s missed some things about competing, but he hasn’t missed the endless traveling. He didn’t really want to get on a plane and come to Toronto, especially not in November. Leaving mild Madrid for the frigid air of Canada was an unpleasant prospect to contemplate. And his apartment had finally started to feel like home, with all his boxes unpacked and his new furniture assembled. 

It was awkwardness, too—plunging back into a world he was trying to make a clean break from. It had been hard at the Olympics, knowing it was one of his last competitions. It was hard packing up his apartment, cleaning out his locker, saying goodbyes to Brian and Tracy and the staff. But at least it was over with, once it was done. Javi didn’t know how he could ever leave if he kept coming back. 

Besides, Yuzu was busy with training. He and Javi talked as much as they could, mostly texts but sometimes calls too, and it almost felt like it was fine, to have Yuzu at this distance. To let each of them get on with their lives without losing the other. He missed Yuzu, sure, but missing Yuzu felt like missing the club, sighing after something he couldn’t have in the same way anymore. 

Javi pictured their relationship like a thread, keeping them connected while they each went about their separate business, but not tying them down. Eventually, Javi figured, they’d either work something out or the thread would disappear, snapping painlessly. But without Yuzu right there, some of the urgency had faded.

Then December came around, and Javi knew he couldn’t put off going back to the club any longer. He needed to train, to dust off his programs and get them in shape for Euros. So he booked his ticket for the beginning of January and prepared himself to say hello, and then goodbye, one last time. 

Now he’s in the lounge, walking past the big windows onto the ice rink. He sneaks a glance—it doesn’t look like anyone’s there yet. He must be earlier than he thought. 

But when he reaches the doors, he spots Yuzu, sitting on his favorite bench and rummaging through his open suitcase. It’s like a punch to the gut. Javi stops short, watching Yuzu’s hands move, his head bobbing away to some song in his earphones. It’s so rare to see Yuzu when he’s unaware of being watched. But even when he’s not performing, there’s a delicate grace to his movements, an ease that’s less fluid but still affecting. 

It fills Javi with that same fierce tenderness he used to feel when he woke up in the middle of the night and saw Yuzu sleeping next to him, eye open and hair splayed across the pillow. How could he have thought this urgency was gone? It was dormant, hidden beneath the everyday, but seeing Yuzu brings it back at full strength. It’s not a thread that binds him to Yuzu, something easy to break and imperceptible. It’s a chain, stronger than steel. And Javi never wants that to change.

He can’t take it any more. He shoves the door open and Yuzu startles, looking up with wide eyes. 

“Javi!” Yuzu cries, springing up from the bench and running over before Javi can get three steps into the room. Javi opens his arms for Yuzu and Yuzu flings himself into them, burying his face in Javi’s shoulder. Javi tightens his arms around Yuzu’s waist, trying to bring him even closer.

“I missed you,” Yuzu wails.

“Me too,” Javi says. “I didn’t even know how much until I saw you, but I missed you so, so much.” He presses a soft kiss to Yuzu’s temple, breathing in the scent of his hair.

They’re silent for a long time, rooted to the spot. Eventually Javi shifts his hold, trying to pull back so he can see Yuzu’s face.

“Please don’t let go,” Yuzu says, urgently, trying to burrow back into Javi’s arms.

“No, no, don’t worry,” Javi soothes, stroking the small of Yuzu’s back. “I just want to kiss you. Is that okay?” he teases.

Yuzu does pull back at that, shifting so Javi can see his face. His cheeks are pink, and as he tilts his head up, Javi can see the faint shine of tears in his eyes. He presses a swift kiss to Javi’s lips. “Yes.”

“Good,” Javi says, leaning in to kiss Yuzu some more. “I love you,” he says, when they pause for breath, because it’s unacceptable that he’s been with Yuzu for almost ten minutes and hasn’t said it. 

“Love you too,” Yuzu says back, with no hesitation. His brow furrows slightly. “I’m proud you do so good in Spain with your show, I’m so happy for you. But I still have to say, I miss you.” He sighs. “I feel like I just wait for you, so long.”

Javi looks into Yuzu’s eyes and suddenly he can see it, everything that’s coming. How the next time he comes back to Canada he’ll ask Yuzu a very important question, will say “forever” and mean it. The bouquet of flowers he’ll throw when Yuzu skates his last competition. Every ice show they’ll do together, in Canada and Spain and Japan. How they’ll wobble back to this very ice rink for the fiftieth anniversary of the Pyeongchang plaques, still hand in hand. The vision takes his breath away. He can hardly wait.

“I’ll always come back to you,” Javi tells Yuzu. “No matter what.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr at someitems.tumblr.com.


End file.
